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If DJ Frank White isn't on your mixtape, kill yo'self... [Intro: Yelawolf] Yeah! On behalf of Alabama, I just wanna say The Heart of Dixie is in this bitch M16, DJ Frank White, my name is Yelawolf Hello world, hello world, hello world! [Verse 1: Yelawolf] This morning I woke up feelin like, that I never had a fuckin’ dime Like I didn’t wake up in the back of the bus that’s finally mine Why, do I feel like I never had Marshall Mathers’ co-sign sometimes? Like Radioactive failed, well maybe this time I’m even not eased to believe that I could be one of the top 5 Maybe when I tell myself I’m one of the best, I’m just lyin’ When my Uncle Buddy calls and ask, I say "I’m just fine, but I feel like I haven’t made it, Uncle, but I’m just tryin." Or maybe, I’m just not used to having shit I never had Never stood in the Winner's Ave Never said, “I got dinner, dad.” Shit, never even had the cash to pay my dad for gettin' her back And Jim I love you, thank you, always remember that And it feels like yesterday, literally like yesterday When I couldn’t get one motherfucking fan to come and see me play When I drove that minivan for the ends, without a license plate To ATL, so I could play Will Power my demo-tape Yeah, that’s writing on the wall that I can't erase He’s a friend of mine that are in the line, and that I can’t replace If I’m in the line, he’s in the line and we both get a play (church) This ain’t no crew, it’s a family, so get it straight (church) So Father you can tell God to part the clouds And let your sun shine thru the minds of my target crowd ‘Cuz I know some of these people think I’m a certified artist now But the butterfly’s still a bug, and I’m above where I started, now Passionate like a political poet in an artist lounge Hungry like a poor daddy with a gun and a starving child If you thought it was a flake, then you just a departed clown And if you thought I was coming hard, well you better think harder now! [Verse 2: Yelawolf] And it’s been a long motherfucking time Since I felt this homesick as I do now Yeah it’s been a long fucking time And I just wanna say Hey! How ya been? Roll Tide! Amen! The Heart of Dixie’s in this bitch, yeah I’m Dixie rich But if I don’t have y’all, I ain’t got shit Gadsden, B-Ham, to the Gump And all the small towns Throw it up, it’s that Alabama sound Much love and I never let you down ‘Cause I might as well be dropped Back in Gadsden and cuttin’ grass Or handcuffed on the side of the road, on my fuckin’ ass Before I become complacent on any level that I’m at Momma will quit drinking and Obama will smoke some crack Lost, yeah I may have, my mind But it takes a lunatic to pursue this shit Ay that’s fine, because I paid the cost Really more like a fine, but instead of paying for tickets now They pay for tickets in line, to see me drain exhaust The pain from the mic, from the strain it cost Two-step in my shoes with a shameless walk 300 soldiers I brought, Wolf-Pack follow my lane and put chalk Around suckers dying for change and talk The New South’s got a new house With a frame and a stump Roots and limbs, the truth’s in him Yeah I’m a grain of salt Preachers yelling out, prophets around Wayne I refrain, I’m a couch, I’m a chair, I’m a seat A relief pitcher, or beer in the mouth I’m a sofa to hold ya, just ride the beat homey, it’s over Whatever rapper would ever say he’s a sober? I must be smoking bath salt, ‘cuz I’m out of my mind! I should have built roads for a livin', cuz I never run out of lines The Heart of Dixie
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